The De Sade Complex
by Time Lordess
Summary: Fushimi is what someone may call a Masochist. A cruel sadistic man who revels in the pain of others. His lust for such pain must be sated every so often, this is where the crimes start. But they're never his colleagues, until he witnesses the grief of a woman thought to be heartless, for a man she seemingly didn't care for. The temptation is... palpable. Izumo/Seri Fushimi/Seri.
1. Chapter 1 - In Plain Sight

**The De Sade Complex**

 **Chapter One - In Plain Sight**

The blinding light of her phone glared at her with its white gaze, forcing her to squint to see the numbers that would decide the fate of the person she was meeting.

 _ **20:30.**_

08:30 pm.

He was meant to arrive 10 minutes ago.

She was meant to be inside 10 minutes ago.

Instead she was waiting outside in a flimsy white dress that could barely even protect her from a slight breeze, let alone the harsh bite of a November night. She envied the couples or businessmen and woman who had the privilege to walk inside the inviting warm yellow glow of the grandeur restaurant to her back.

And it was indeed grandeur, it had a red carpet -made from velvet, she guessed- running to the entrance, from the gates surrounding the building. It was two stories high, which was saying something as each floor was probably three quarters of the height of Scepter 4 head quarters. Ivory pillars loomed over the oak door entrance twice as tall as many of the people walking through them. A finely dressed man in a black tailcoat and black suit greeted the guests with a smile and a wave into the restaurant, pointing them to the reception where the diners would be checked in and appointed a table. From what she could see through the windows, the tables were covered in white tablecloth and decorated with a large scented candle at the center, a glass tissue holder, a intricate plate in front of the seats with matching cutlery framing the plate and a paper swan for a cliche posh vibe (in her opinion anyway, maybe it was supposed to be romantic).

The elegant lady had just about enough dissecting the restaurant she was meant to be sat inside, it was depressing; thinking of what was inside when she wasn't there to enjoy it. She had just decided on giving a detailed description of the smog-clear night sky, or a boring recall of the taxis and cars parking up outside the restaurant and the people climbing out of them – a young woman carrying a business-like aura that Seri approved of, a father that had taken extra care to be presentable and his son, an overexcited boy with a cute suit, a old lady with her hand pocketed in a old mans arm- and tried not to tap her heels impatiently on the ground (she was not going to let him have the pleasure of catching her in that position twice) when she heard the distinct screech of a skateboard and a slight whoosh of air being parted as it flew into the hands of a red-headed, red clansman Misaki Yata. He had a stiff expression on his face, that told her, he didn't want to be here. A glare in his direction earned her a scowl and a view of the side of his face. Good, she thought, we can both be in a fowl-mood today.

Yata's behavior merited an amused chuckle from the tall, lean, second in command of HOMRA, which distracted her attention from Yata and brought back her fury at the idiot she had been waiting for. He looked very smartly dressed, not in the casual look he sported most of the time but gentleman smart. White shirt, grey vest, a black tailcoat, his bangs swept to frame the side of his face and no glasses so the world could see his eyes as they were, not through a tinted screen. The last two details were odd and Seri would admit and most likely tell Izumo that it done no favors for his appearance, if for the fact that Izumo would delight in the fact she had noticed. She would give more fine a description but quite frankly she wasn't in the best of moods to do that. To reflect this she bestowed upon her face a blank look that told others she was angry and glared at him icily, succeeding in not shivering from the wind like a weak human which would have made her stern expression void of any effect. Izumo caught sight of the expression directed at him and leaned down to whisper to Yata, who nodded once with a humph and flicked his skateboard in the air before it landed gracefully on the ground and with one foot, urged the thing forward past the two. Izumo took one last puff of his cigarette, blowing a hoop of smoke towards her, before letting it drop from his fingers and stamping his foot above it, twisting it and extinguishing the flame. She coughed discreetly from the smoke and wafted it away from her face with her hand, her glare more cold from the stunt he had just pulled.

"Seri." Izumo greeted her, not quite sure if he should speak just then. He had to admit that blowing smoke in her direction had been done purposely but in the heat of the moment. He had thought she would joke about it, or at least scold him lightly but no. She was not slightly intoxicated Seri today, she was Lieutenant Awashima, The Heartless Woman of Scepter 4.

She decided not to bestow the pleasure of hearing her greet him and kept her lips tightly pressed together, the silence making the tension denser, she couldn't quite bring herself to care about the guise they were under, opting to give him a taste of his own medicine. Instead she listened to the soft roll of Yata's wheels fade away, she assumed he was supposed to keep an eye on the back entrance for any green clansmen that weren't expected in this restaurant and was only glad he didn't take the east side of the restaurant to get there as he would surely have made a run-in with Fushimi who was standing guard over Awashima if there was any trouble. Their brawling would gain unwanted attention from the wrong type of people, and Fushimi would be too caught up in his daily dose of fun to alert Seri.

A gust of cold wind traveled up her shoulders and across her bare spine and she was reminded how deeply she wanted to be warm again.

"I'm not sure as to what kept you but quite frankly I don't care, we're late and it's cold, lets go inside" She stated bluntly, before turning on her heel to walk towards the inviting building ahead.

Izumo's hearty chuckle stopped her in her tracks and she turned to face the man. "Is that any way to greet a person, Seri?" His hands combed over his hair. Seri was about to retort, state – not complain, she was not that type of woman – that he could not expect her to be civil towards him after she was made to wait for him, when Izumo beat her to it.

"Luckily for you, I do," He placed the palm of his hand over his heart and bowed in a fluid motion towards her. "Hello Seri. You look absolutely stunning, as always."

And no one could dispute this claim. Seri had worn a long white dress, a v-neckline that stopped just below her chest, showing enough of her breast so people knew she was here as a fine diner, her back was exposed to show her shoulder blades and ended slightly above her waist-line. The dress itself stopped at her ankles but there was a pleasing slit that stopped at her upper thigh. She wore white high heels adorned with light blue jewels. Her hair was worn up, styled in such a way so three hoops of hair were placed on her head like a tiara, she carried a white purse and wore a pearl necklace to cover her pale neck. Fushimi had commented she would not look out of place in the posh restaurant but she couldn't help but disagree when she saw women appear in long-sleeved dresses wrapped in fur coats. Damn winter!

Izumo took her hand and kissed it gently, letting go before it was deemed inappropriately long by Seri or the people passing them. Seri took her hand back, trying to keep her stern mask on but it was slipping into that of pure and utter rage, could one man be so annoying?

Before she could resume her brisk walk into the warmth the restaurant offered he, Izumo grabbed her wrist and dug into his inside blazer pocket with his other hand, retrieving a headband with square blue jewels going across it and a matching bracelet. He put it up in front of him for her to see with a smile.

Seri stared at them, uninterested by the jewels. "I'm afraid I can't accept sir"

Izumo let his smile falter for a second, not putting the jewels back. "Aww Seri, don't be like that. Besides everyone is expecting you to wear it." Seri was about to ask who everyone was (and try not to bristle at the overly-familiar way he was addressing her, because their disguised called for familiarity) when she noticed a couple with a clear look of awe. No doubt assuming they were a couple and not minding their own business. She groaned quietly. They had a wrong image of their relationship.

"Fine. Hand it over." She extended her palm to him, waiting for the jewels to be dumped on them.

Instead she felt the cool smoothness of crystal sliding down her hand to rest at her wrist. "Sorry, but they want me to put it on you." Convenient she thought. She also noticed that Izumo had stepped closer into her personal space but just nearly bit back an order for him to take a step back because, well how else was he supposed to put it on. However he took a step closer so Seri was staring directly at his chest and she could feel the hairband sliding into place on her head. He looked down at her from his position atop her head and smirked before leaning down so his mouth was next to her ear.

"I was going to get red jewels, but that would be too much like marking you as mine and that thought would make you look utterly ravishing." Izumo growled in a low voice, his tone causing her to shiver and her face to lose its stoic demeanor for a fraction of a second to be replaced by the anger she had tried to fend off.

Yes. One man could be so annoying, and she had the misfortune of being acquainted with the particular individual.

Izumo pulled away slowly to reveal slightly darker eyes but that could be a trick of the light as they were back to their normal state in a blink. "Which wouldn't have been good for our guise."

"No, it wouldn't have. Shame." She replied with a hint of venom.

"Yeah, pity." He drawled. He took a step back and smiled charmingly, offering his arm to her like a gentlemen would have done but she knew better. Awashima was many things but dense was not one of them, this man was not a gentleman of any kind, instead he was practically leader of a band of hoodlums intent on causing chaos, and this, this polite behavior was for women of a far more…giggly nature. She did however take the arm extended to her and lead them briskly towards the entrance of the restaurant.

Seri spotted Fushimi in a nearby building, perhaps it was a hotel, or a gallery. He was leaning on the rail of a balcony, PDA in hand, his glasses pointed towards the device. He wore a black tailcoat, a blue scarf wrapped around it, his white shirt visible. She was surprised he hadn't pulled a chair to sit and laze around on but she knew that Fushimi would never have achieved his rank (with his backstory) that quickly if he was a lazy arse. Sure enough she could see his grey eyes not looking at the screen but the window opposite him and the steady stream of people entering and leaving the building. He met her cold gaze with a bored one of his own, saw her arm wrapped around Izumo before smirking and rolling his eyes and settled his attention elsewhere, she was confident it wasn't Yata as she could see no manic grin on his face, and she also resumed her attention elsewhere.

The two approached the restaurant, where the man Seri had watched from a distance nodded in their direction and smiled pleasantly. "Good evening, if you would just make your way to the reception desk, you will be assigned your table." Awashima could hear the tint of boredom in his words and wondered how long he had been standing out there, on the edge of warmth guiding others in while he stared longingly. She couldn't formulate the necessary emotions to feel pity and smile sadly at the man as Izumo's arm unwrapped from her own arm.

That's right, they were approaching the reception, he would have to behave more civilized. Its what people from the elite class did.

And traveled down to wrap round her waist. What was she expecting? Once a punk from HOMRA, always a punk from HOMRA, that was the saying. He could only pretend to be the gentleman he so adored being. He had no idea about the do's and don't's of polite society. And she firmly intended in teaching him. She whipped her face round to glare at his face and demand he keep himself to himself and scold him about the fact they had a disguise which he was ruining but she stopped mutely when she saw Izumo was staring at her face, his eyes gauging her reaction, a hint of amusement radiating through his face; the curl of his lips into a smirk, the slyness of his eyes and the signs of a suppressed laugh. She resorted to narrowing her eyes in displeasure at him and slowly removing the intruding hand from her bodily territory.

He sniggered proudly, talking lowly so only she could hear. "Sorry but I promised I would get a proper date out of this."

"Good luck with that." Seri smiled pleasantly for outward appearances but stopped herself from gritting her teeth while forcing the words out.

"Is that a challenge, because I have to point out, even our surnames are the same," As he said this, the pair approached the receptionist, Izumo smiled charmingly at her, before whispering in Seri's ear. "Watch this."

Izumo leaned casually on the desk separating the receptionist from the diners. He grinned in such a way that made the receptionist swoon, well at least he thought so, he was probably right. "Reservation for the Kusakabe's."

"Mr Izuru Kusakabe and Miss Iresa Kusakabe?" She asked in a sickly sweet voice when she realized that they couldn't possibly… "I'm sorry, I think I read that wrong, its Mrs Kusakabe right?"

Izumo turned to read off the computer the receptionist had in front of her, he knew of course, he just wanted the moment to last longer, no HOMRA, no Scepter 4, no mission.

 **Register for Mikawa Zezankyo Restaurant Date: 27/11/15**

Time of Arrival: 20;00

Name(s): Mr Alex Ho, Mr Edward Taylor

Seats Required: 2 (Business room required)

Time of Arrival: 20;20

Name(s): Mr Izuru Kusakabe, Miss Iresa Kusakabe

Seats Required: 2 (Main Dining)

Time of Arrival: 20:35

Names(s): Mr Yuki Ayato, Mr Jukasuno Goa

Seats Required:1 seat (Main Dining), 1 seat (Nursery Dining)

* * *

 **Miss Kusakabe.**

Miss _(pronounced: mizz)_

Noun

 _1.) Used as a courtesy title before the surname or full name of a girl or single woman._

They were not playing the role of a married couple.

"No, you read just fine, no need to apologize, me and him get this all the time." Seri informed the confused receptionist, poor women seemed devastated she had assumed they were in a romantic relationship.

"Brother and sister, celebrating sisters birthday." Seri whispered as they were directed to their seats. She felt he needed reminding but she knew he didn't. He was just trying to have a laugh in a serious mission. They had been very stressed since trying to stop the Green clan, HOMRA especially. No doubt, the second in command who now had all the responsibilities of a King because Anna was too young, and a baby sitter to trouble-makers while in charge of a bar must have been the most stressed. But she could not afford for playtime like he could.

"Right, lets get this over with." He sighed, not looking at Seri. She suspected that it was not because he was still hurt by their pretend relationship but because he was taking the time to analyse each of the people in the main restaurant room. Even if he acted like a romantic, he was not one. He was a flirt, sure. But at the end of the day, he was a knowledgeable man, intellectual, did not let his emotions cloud his brain, and stuck to logic.

"Anyone?" Seri asked, her own eyes had laid on the business woman she had seen enter the restaurant while she had been waiting. She sat close to the window, seemed far too interested in the people around her, and spoke too much into her phone and didn't seem like she was meeting anyone here. She looked like she was here on a stakeout.

"That lady you're looking at seems to be the only viable candidate." Izumo spoke in a low voice, his smoky breath blowing into her hair. "Look, she's wearing some green nail polish."

It was not uncommon for clansmen to have something that held the color of their clan. Even when in disguise. Izumo was still wearing his red tie, Yata with his sweater, Fushimi staking out in a blue scarf and Seri had worn a blue necklace not to mention the blue jeweled headband and bracelet Izumo had given her.

Maybe he should have bought her a red version. Izumo's possession or not be damned. All the green clansmen knew there was only one female in HOMRA and she was a decade younger than Seri, they would not have suspected her of being a Blue if she wore red.

They reached their seats, Izumo pulled out Seri's chair before pulling his own out and sitting on it. Seri was anxious to contact Fushimi and tell him to try and find out about the business lady that had conveniently been given a seat three tables away from the two. But they had to support their disguise.

Izumo deftly gave her a white card with "Happy Birthday Dear Sister" written elegantly at the front. She opened the card to find a picture of the woman they had agreed was a suspect and a question mark. At the bottom- in what she could only guess was Izumo's hasty scrawl- was a message.

 _RII._

Seri glanced incredulously at Izumo. He gestured to raise the card slightly higher and looked past her shoulder to the window and nodded. She turned round to find Fushimi staring back at her past the window on the building she had seen him previously. He appeared to understand the message and took out some binoculars. In a second he had put it down and took out his PDA.

Seri turned back to Izumo who was smirking. "Still remembers, eh?"

Oh.

It had slipped her mind that, at one point, Fushimi had been part of HOMRA and had worked together with them as part of the same team and not a unsteady alliance. She wondered if Fushimi and Izumo got along, if they respected each other and if Fushimi had got along and cared for the Red Clansmen. Perhaps they did, or maybe only Yata did. That could have been the reason why Yata was still angry at his betrayal to his former clan. She would have to ask Izumo at a later point, maybe even get it out of Fushimi (though he would feel like he was not obliged to say so) but not now. Now she wanted answers.

"Explain." She demanded, not liking to be left out of anything and keen to keep herself in the circle of information

"Read in Invisible Ink setting. I told him to keep an eye on the business lady and to monitor who goes through the Children room of the restaurant."

"May I inquire as to why?" Seri asked, referring to the second piece of information.

Izumo however, seemed keen to try her patience and frowned at her. "I thought we identified the lady as a suspected Green. Its only natural we should check her backstory."

She fumed silently, but blinked robotically, letting her emotions flow out of her through her eyes after she opened them again. "And the second instruction?" Just about keeping her voice level.

"Oh, Anna's in that room, she wanted to come but I said it was too dangerous in the main room. She's with the little humans in the Kid's section." He muttered this quickly, apparently anxious to get the words out, resulting in each word colliding with the next like dominoes so it was a barely clear sentence.

"What!" Seri thanked the heavens that she had so far not touched a wine glass, let alone started to sip some, otherwise it would have escaped her lips like poison. On second thoughts, no she wished she had drank some and had spat it out. It would rain on Izumo which would be suitable punishment for his foolishness. Here she was complimenting his intelligence and the idiot had not even tried to keep his king away from such a dangerous mission!

"What? She's thirteen, she's not a baby. She needs to learn about what it takes to be a king. Besides she's more powerful than me, no need to worry." Izumo shrugged, but his eyes flickered to the room leading to the Kid's room. Which, to Seri, gave mixed signals about what her "dear brother" felt regarding Anna's situation.

"But you told Fushimi to keep an eye on her?" She asked skeptically.

"He might as well. He has nothing to do trying to protect you. Why did you do that anyway, scared I'll turn on you?" He joked.

"I trust him to inform me of any new unforeseen developments, and his skill with a sharp object." She replied cooly. She was not entirely focused on replying to Izumo and more occupied in finding a fitting time to go to the toilet and tell Munakata of the unexpected Red King and how best to extract her from the restaurant.

"Yeah, I did too." Izumo muttered. The sad emotions over Saruhiko's departure from HOMRA returning. _He was meant to take over after I retired_ Izumo brooded.

He watched who was going into the Kids room with slight interest, he could however give a description of their appearance if required. A small group of children, 2 girls (one blue eyed and blonde hair in light curls, another brown hair in a tight bun and grey eyes. Maybe 7-9 years old?) and 3 boys (by the looks of it, triplets. All had black hair. Two had green eyes while one had blue, 10 years on them, perhaps). A small toddler wailing in the arms of a teenage boy, who walked into the room with a excited grin on his face- probably happy he had been excused from sitting like a little gentleman and could misbehave a little more in the Kid's area. And a little girl, chewing her lip quietly as she walked out of the kid's area. No doubt alarmed by all the adults in the room.

The shy girl walked passed his line of vision and something drew his attention away from her, she became a blur as his eyes focused on something else. The woman, the lady with the green nails. Her seat was empty. Shit!

Izumo grabbed his phone, not bothering to read irrelevant notifications from the Reds about their usual gang fights and sent a text to Fushimi in seconds. He jabbed the send icon furiously, only letting his worry dissipate after he saw it was delivered. Izumo then scrolled through his texts to see why Fushimi hadn't sent him news of the woman's departure.

 _Oh. I'm an idiot._ The phone was on silent.

 **Izumo's PDA**

Fushimi: Her name is May Aru, 27, works for a big restaurant. Here to check on competitors. Disregarding her as suspect. 20:45

Fushimi: Nothing to say on Anna, no suspicious Greens. 20:51

Fushimi: Few people walked into the Kids, 5 kids, a baby with some teen and a shy girl. I'll run checks on them just in case. 21:07

Fushimi: GO GET ANNA! THE FUCKING TINY GREEN BRATS IN THERE! HE WENT IN WITH THE BABY! 21:14

* * *

Fuck.

Shit…. _Fuck!_

The chair screeched in protest as its owner pushed the seat back, half-ran, half-speed walked through the various obstacles in the form of chairs, tables and people, swinging his tall frame over some empty tables, some occupied –there was a few yells of anger but he couldn't politely say sorry- and all but yanked the doors off their hinges opening the entrance to the kids room all before Seri could even ask why Izumo had turned deathly pale.

She frowned in confusion and snatched Izumo's phone from the ground, she walked in long strides to the kids room, muttering apologies to the diners who were victims of Izumo's mad dash to the kid's room, she scrolled the screen and found the root of Izumo's worry. She would have chased after him, join in on the battle sure to take place but knew her priority should be the safety of the innocents. She would have to inform Munakata, he may have to come in if Nagara or Mr Iwa were here. Her fingers scrolled the pixelated screen to find her King's number and tapped the phone icon. It was answered within the third ring exactly, as she knew it would. She liked consistency in such things, she would know if something was the matter if he picked up before or after that point.

"Munakata." She heard a deep voice reach her ears.

"Awashima, Captain." She answered, "The 3rd King is in the building, Fushimi has reason to believe that the Green clansmen, Sukuna Gojou is in the building with malicious intent towards the Red King."

"Fushimi has informed as much." He replied cooly, there was a pause. "Very well, Akiyama is cordoning off the building and leading the evacuation. See to it there is no one else here that could further our problems, I will arrive if the situation demands my assistance."

She nodded her approval and swiftly cut the call. Seri began weaving through the tables once more, intent on finding any clues as to the whereabouts of any other Greens. Gojou would not be in this building alone. She made her way to the reception desk, the same receptionist awaited her. The woman smiled pleasantly and apologized once more for her earlier mix-up.

"Please, apologize no more. However I would like it if you could show me the check-in database for today. I assure you, I have the authority for such a request." While saying this, Seri held up her Scepter 4 ID card.

"O-of course" The receptionist stuttered, allowing her into the small desk place and rising from her chair.

Seri sat down, the mouse making quick work of scrolling through the list, she checked times close to her own and notice something off about the one directly beneath her own.

 **Register for Mikawa Zezankyo Restaurant Date: 27/11/15**

Time of Arrival: 20;20

Name(s): Mr Izuru Kusakabe, Miss Iresa Kusakabe

Seats Required: 2 (Main Dining)

Time of Arrival: 20:35

Names(s): Mr Yuki Ayato, Mr Jukasuno Goa

Seats Required:1 seat (Main Dining), 1 seat (Nursery Dining)

* * *

That name, it had the same letters needed to make Sukuna Gojo.

So that tip-off had been a trap. But… who was the name above, had he made the man come in unwillingly?

"Excuse me, I'm assuming you saw these two come in, it is of the utmost urgency that you tell me what you remember about these two. How was the man acting? Did he seem nervous or maybe look in need of help." Seri pointed to the screen with her finger.

The woman bent over to see the screen clearly and recognition passed her eyes. "Oh those two. I think they were a father and son, but I wouldn't exactly trust my judgement seeing my track record." She blushed at her reference, "One was in his 20's, I'd say late, the kid was about…9-ish maybe 10, he was quite small. He was cute actually, he was saying how he wanted to go to the main room cos some girl named Sea- no that's not right, Seri?- was there. I don't know. But he got told to go to the Kid's section, look after his sister or something. The older dude was a pain. He had his hair dyed bright neon green and the purple highlight done no favors. He made a big fuss when we told him to remove it but he didn't listen and just walked away. I'll throw a apple at him if I see him again."

"Sorry I'm babbling." She blushed with a nervous smile. Seri's stern expression did not help the poor receptionists nerves.

Mr Yuki Ayato, a disguise for Yukari Mishakuji.

Former clansmen of the Colourless King now clansmen of the Green King.

 _Shit!_ How could she have screwed up like this?

And now, Seri realised she had been jumping around this one since she came into the restaurant. Not just seeing Sukuna go into the Kid's room looking for Anna, or failing to see their names on the receptionist's list but when she had been waiting outside for Izumo.

* * *

 _"She had just decided on giving a detailed description of the smog-clear night sky, or a boring recall of the taxis and cars parking up outside the restaurant and the people climbing out of them – a young woman carrying a business-like aura that Seri approved of, **a father that had taken extra care to be presentable and his son, an overexcited boy with a cute suit,** a old lady with her hand pocketed in a old mans arm"_

Damn her stupidity to hell!

* * *

"I want the one with the big hooters, kay?" Sukuna demanded, he had his hands stuffed firmly into his pockets after being scolded by Yukari about his overexcited manner.

"And I'm sure the fact that HOMRA's second in command is also there was just a added bonus." Yukari teased, he was fingering his neon green hair in distaste, unfortunately he was not allowed to have it purple for the days events. Apparently his hair would make sure he was spotted in seconds, and he sadly, agreed with the statement so it had to go.

"Oh," Sukana scratched the back of his neck in a innocent manner. "I hadn't thought of that. Hey! If I got them both, that would be 12,00 points right?"

"Quit acting so innocent, it does nothing for your appeal. We talked about this, you're the only person that can sneak into the Kid's room. Now be quiet already." Yukari walked up to the reception desk.

"We have a reservation. Mr Yuki Ayato." He flourished a hand towards his body then gracefully pointed to Sukuna Gojou. "And Mr Jukasuno Goa."

"Okay, do you want someone to take the little one?" The receptionist smiled pleasantly.

"No, that won't be necessary." Yukari waved the offer away.

"Humph, Why can't I go to Seri?" Sukuna muttered.

"No Juka. You have to take care of Anna, we agreed." Yukari patted his head affectionately, "Run along now."

Sukuna grunted but obeyed, going into the main room, he scanned a way to get in without the Second-in commands noticing. It was so unfair, the stupid girl was worth more points but he wanted to earn his points, he could beat that rag doll in seconds!

Yukari watched him and took off to follow him but the honey-sweet voice of the receptionist stopped him.

"Erm, sir? I going to have to ask you to remove the hair dye, its against our dress code policy."

* * *

Sukuna stuffed his fisted hands deeper into his pocket, he was leaning on the wall next to the entrance of the main room, lurking in the shadows.

He had spotted the two second in commands taking their seats near the window where he knew Fushimi had been posted. He had to make sure the 2nd in commands wouldn't clue him out. He needed something to blend in with but he could see nobody that would make entry into the Kid's room look normal (the adults wouldn't help him blend in) and the children weren't stupid, they would not make friends with him easily. Sukuna kicked his foot impatiently, he felt it kick a small teddy bear and looked up trying to find the owner. He found the owner when a baby wailed in his mothers arms and flailed until he was gently released by the mother who set the child down on the carpet so her son could retrieve the bear. Sukuna picked the bear up and smiled pleasantly at the baby, handed him the bear and picked him up. He approached the mother, who when seeing her son was in the hands of another gave a surprising answer that gained him a gateway to the Kid's room. _Hello kind sir. If it wouldn't be too much to ask, could you please take my dear Yato to the Kid's room and look after him. If you need to go before I'm done, just bring him back._

He was in the room in seconds and had just saw Anna going into the toilets. He smirked menacingly and followed her, it was almost too easy. Sukuna stopped just short of the toilet door, his hands found their way to his axe while the he opened the door with his foot. He walked in, his shoes silent trying to locate the Red King. The room was empty (no screaming little girls, thank the heavens).

 _Scuffle._

Like a cat, Sukuna's ears zoned into the slight noise. He saw a pair of feet peeking back at him at the bottom of the third stall from last. His grin spread, he took the stall neighboring it and stepped onto the toilet seat. Now higher than the walls of the stall, he peered over the wall and got ready to jump into the stall.

A peer of red eyes glared daggers into his own grey ones, Anna was looking directly up at him, emotionless. She raised a red marble slowly and tilted her head. It was unnerving

"Hey." Succeeding in seeming unfazed with his confident tone, Sukuna grinned, "Did I make you shit yourself?"

He laughed at his own humor and launched himself down to the stall. Immediately his axe was pointed at Anna's pale neck and her back was forced onto the tiled wall behind her. While one hand kept the axe in place on her neck, the other hand slammed into the wall next to her above her shoulder, trapping the girl. He leaned in with a manic smile.

"It stinks here, you did shit yourself didn't you?"

Anna tilted her head the other way. There was a pause and then,

"There isn't a colour for your eyes."

* * *

 **AUTHORS NOTE:**

 **Hope you understood the beginning of the story.**

 **I first started writing this chapter when I saw a K-Project trailer for Season 2 on Youtube when I had just seen episode 3 of season 2. I kept updating the story with every new plot twist but kept the Restaurant bit and Seri and Izumo's relationship the same. I knew they were going to make them disguised as husband and wife but I wanted to do things differently. I spent a good deal of thinking time thinking about how to lace the chapter with clues about Sukuna and Yukuri and I'm quite proud but it might have been really obvious...**


	2. Chapter 2 - To Witness A Shatter

**The De Sade Complex**

 **Chapter Two – To Witness a Shatter**

 **Saturday 13th June 2015 (5 months ago…)**

Akiyama picked up a leather wallet from the bloodied floor, his gloved hands handled it carefully; thumb and index finger pinching the corners delicately while keen eyes analysed the object thoroughly, naming off what he saw in his head.

 _Traces of blood on wallet_ – Relatively fresh, 4-5 hours ago? Meaning the event took place at 2-3am. Victim or killers blood? Send to forensics for DNA tests and further information.

 _Pocket for loose change is worn_ – Owner carries lots of change around, however not a lot of notes. Owner/Victim is poor and is probably unemployed.

Opening the wallet, Akiyama spotted an ID card in a plastic case. He removed it and read the name.

"Lieutenant Awashima. Victim was a man named Shu Wukari, 23, born 31st September" reading the contents of the card aloud to his superior, "Blood on wallet, I'll give it to forensics for DNA tests. I believe the victim may be poor and unemployed."

"Thank you Akiyama. May I also see the wallet?" Seri pulled on her gloves and gestured for the item.

Akiyama nodded and made his way to the body lying a few meters away from him. Crouching beside the bloodied body was Seri who was gazing over the corpse for clues. Akiyama bent down to hand her the wallet and then swiftly walked away to his next task which was to ensure the area was suitably cordoned off to the public and press.

Seri pulled out the ID card from the wallet and held it out to compare with the victims face, through the cuts and the obvious symptoms of insomnia and drinking, the facial features certainly held a resemblance. Satisfied she now had the victim's personal information and could proceed to contact a relative and tell them of the man's passing, Seri resumed her analysis.

 _Numerous cuts along legs, arms and neck: appear self-administered however the cuts seem too deep for someone who was inflicting this on themselves, pain would be too much for them and they would consequently stop. Gun lying next to the body, does not hold any ammo. Victim may have tried to use this in self-defense but found out there was no bullets. Knife embedded into the heart is probably the death weapon. Appears to have cut through 4 inches. No visible fingerprints, killer must have known what they were doing._

"Lieutenant, you asked for me?" Fushimi asked in his usual bored tone. He was tapping the handle of his knife rapidly, unusual from the normally lazy 3rd in command but Seri didn't bother to ponder on it.

"Yes, I did" Lieutenant Awashima confirmed. Sensing that his superior would not care to elaborate, he grudgingly made his way over to her and the body while muttering a string of choice words pointed to the blonde woman. He crouched beside the body, opposite to Seri. Upon realizing that the damn woman would not open her mouth, he sighed in annoyance which finally gave her the ability to formulate sentences.

"Tell me what you think happened for the body to end up like this." She said, preoccupied on the body.

"He has cuts on his arms and necks, my guess it's an act of self-harm not a killers torture method." Fushimi dug into his pocket for gloves and put them on; the gloves slapped his skin lightly as he let go of the ends. He proceeded to lift the left arm of the victim so both he and Seri could see. "See how the blade cuts towards the victim. That's a sign of self-harm. If it was a killer, the blade would cut outwards unless the killer was behind the victim which would make cutting the victim uncomfortable." He gestured to the arm to put across his meaning.

"But the cuts are too deep. Look," She pointed to a particular cut. "That almost hit a nerve. He would not cut himself like that, it would be too painful." Seri argued.

"Yeah, but the man was extremely intoxicated. Look how many empty bottles are around him, it stinks of alcohol. He probably didn't even register the pain."

"Okay, so let's assume it was self-harm. What about the gun, the bullets? It was self-defense surely."

"The gun is dropped on the left side of the body, the man was probably left handed. Look, all of his belongings are positioned to benefit a lefty. The tea's handle is on the left side and over there," Fushimi pointed to a desk, "There are some left-handed scissors. See my point?"

Seri nodded slowly, trying not to argue her case when he clearly had the evidence to support his. That didn't stop her gut instinct in crying out "murder" at the scene before her.

Fushimi continued with his theory. "So he probably wanted to use the gun to end his life but discovered it didn't have any bullets, and instead of searching for them, he got a knife and stabbed himself."

"So you think this is a suicide case?" Awashima asked.

"Yes, Lieutenant."

"And not a murder case?"

"Obviously." Fushimi replied.

* * *

Fushimi flicked a knife casually between his fingers, impatient and energized. He lurked in the shadows, wearing clothes which helped him blend into his dark bleak surroundings; a black leather jacket, dark grey trousers and black trainers. His eyes were set on a blue wooden door ahead of him which was just waiting to be entered. He withdrew his phone from his trouser pocket and checked the time.

11:24 pm.

Any second now.

The door opened with a _whoosh_ and a _thud_ as a woman thrust it into the white plaster wall next to it. The woman was putting on her coat, harshly. She had green eyes, red lipstick which gave her features an empowering vibe and matched her fiery red hair.

She tugged on a small suitcase and stepped out of the flat. A tall blonde man came up behind her, raking his hand through his hair repeatedly, tired and unmistakably drunk, the man sloppily grabbed the woman's wrist and spluttered out a sentence which seemed to have a negative reaction from the woman as she started yelling while freeing her hand.

"No Shu! I don't give a damn that you're trying, it isn't working! And like hell you're trying. I haven't seen you even once think to find a job. You just sit and stare at the TV all day and I'm sick of it. I fucking deserve better and you are no way near it. So get your hands off me," She wretched her hand away from the man and his surprisingly iron grip and leaned close to Shu with venom in her eyes. "And leave me alone."

Fushimi smirked, liking this woman's fire and hatred. He halfheartedly began considering if he should pursue her instead. She would certainly give her the rage and fight he was looking for. But a glance at the object of the woman's anger told him to stay put. The man was consumed in grief, painfully so. He had his tall frame hunched in resignation of his fate. He was probably doubting his self-worth and would soon turn to alcohol as his refuge. This is why Fushimi had chosen him. Shu Wukari: No one of actual importance. He had an average upbringing but small achievements academically meaning he worked low-pay jobs. When his company dropped hundreds of workers, Shu was one of the unfortunates. His family supported him as much as they could but eventually got pissed and kicked him out. Now he lives in a dodgy estate building in a dodgy apartment suffering from depression. And really, what kind of pain would lure Fushimi in more than self-loathing?

Shivering in almost giddy excitement Fushimi walked out of the shadows. He walked quietly but surely towards Shu. When he got close enough for the man to realize this wasn't someone merely walking to their own apartment, his eyes widened in fear. His hand sloppily reached out to the door handle in a sordid attempt to close the door.

Too late.

Fushimi lunged forward and grabbed the man's wrist tightly in his hand. He tugged Shu towards him and twisted the wrist painfully behind his back. The man let out a grunt of pain but was stopped short of screaming when a sharp metal knife met the skin of his neck, slicing it gently.

"Walk forward. Don't scream…yet." Fushimi commanded gruffly.

The man obeyed, whimpering as he took shaky steps inside his apartment, wincing from the pain of the disjointed wrist still being held by Fushimi. Fushimi followed him and once he was inside, he kicked the door closed with his foot and immediately let go of the man. Shu stumbled onto the floor, clutching his wrist. It was bruising, purple and black painting over otherwise pale skin. That was were Fushimi held him, he was the one that caused Shu pain, his mark.

Fushimi inhaled sharply, loud enough to make a high whistling noise. His eyes dilated in lust, revealing slightly hooded eyes. Tingling sensations jolted him into alertness more then any alarm, snaking up his spine and coursing through his bloodstream. Fushimi clenched his hands into fists, shaking visibly from the strain of keeping control, of maintaining his humanity, of not becoming a savage. But oh god, he wanted to. He wanted to be ruthless, wild and animalistic but he could not. He had to have this act of sin down to a science or otherwise he would be caught.

He exhaled deeply and walked through the damp and dingy hallway to the kitchen (memorizing the layout of the flat before setting off was key) where the kitchen knives would surely be. He slid gloves on and picked a knife out at random. Flicking the knife and checking the sharpness, he familiarized himself with it and strode back to the main room. He found Shu tapping numbers into a phone and calmly, instinctively he threw one of his own preferred blades at the man. His slight groan of a scream filled Fushimi's air, the noise echoing around his ears deliciously and Fushimi could barely register the thud of a wallet fall to the bloodied ground. _And who cares anyway? Let the police find it, I can watch his family be in pain as well._ Fushimi grinned at the thought.

He could feel his being blur as he gave into primal, sadistic, savage need.

….

"I think we'll go for that vein this time." Fushimi traced a thick bulging vein leading to Shu's hand, most prominent at the wrist with his knife, careful not to cut into it just yet.

He was positioned behind Shu and was intentionally cutting in the awkward position so the man could not report torture if it looked like self-harm. Fushimi was holding the near limp man roughly, one hand on his shoulders to keep him upright and the other on his arm. He was surrounded by Shu's intoxicating blood. It was nothing out of the ordinary but the moonlight filtering in through the blinds made the puddle of crimson so…pretty.

He shook himself out of his trance-like state to the slight shudder of Shu's sobs. He grinned.

And cut. Deeply. Agonizingly. Tortuously.

"Aaaarrrghhh!" The man shrieked, throwing his head back, colliding with Fushimi's sturdy shoulder.

And god was it a truly lust-evoking scream.

….

Shu was being boring now. His screams didn't affect him in such an intense way like before. It was actually quite a turn-off if he was being honest. The poor man had lost his voice and now when he _"screamed"_ –if something so outrageously _not_ opera-like could be called that – it was a hideous choking noise. High pitched and low pitched at the same time if that even fucking exists, so disgusting he couldn't do it anymore.

Fushimi stood up, letting the man's head thud onto the floor, his quite frankly pathetic tears and snotty nose in full view. Urgh. Funny how something so arousing could be so vile in a matter of minutes. He went to the fridge, desperate for a drink.

When he returned he heard a distinct clink and whipped his head round to see Shu on his knees with a gun shaking between his hands. _Tch. I don't have the energy for this shit._ Fushimi thought lazily. He threw the gun away with his knife. The gun slid to the left of Shu, and Fushimi immediately followed it. He quickly had the ammo scattered on the floor and turned his head round to Shu's general direction. Before the man had time to beg for mercy – _I hate the pathetic beggars, and to think, that I was going to let you live. What a joke_ \- he had pounced on him, throwing Shu back on his back and one of his own knives deeply embedded in him. Like the animal he truly was.

Well fuck. This is going to take some time to clean up.

Firstly, was the cover up of the murder weapon. Fushimi withdrew his own knife, washed it thoroughly and put it in a pocket. Intent on burning it in acid when he got back to his flat and found another kitchen knife from Shu's kitchen and shoved the fucker into the stab wound. Then came the gun. It was on the left side. But Shu was a right handed person. Everyone knew that was an awkward angle to shoot themselves from. He left the gun where it was but turned any object so the handles were on the left side with a firm reminder to change any records that stated Shu Wukari was a right handed man into a left handed man.

He was gone. Within 3 hours he was called into a crime he himself had committed.

* * *

"What?" Sukuna growled, in his opinion, he did a good job of concealing his confusion behind anger. And another thing he did a good job of? Not covering his eyes self-consciously. Even though his hands were twitching from the urge. "What's my eye colour got to do with anything?"

"What are the colour of your eyes?" Anna asked curiously, seemingly oblivious to the rage building up inside Sukuna.

"Doesn't fucking matter!" He snarled dangerously. Sukuna's grip on the wall was released as he snatched a large lock of Anna's silver hair and tugged it down. The hand gripping his axe pushed more into Anna's neck drawing blood which made its slow descent down Anna's pale neck.

Anna let out a slight whimper followed by a cry as the searing pain in her scalp caused her to fight back tears. She gripped Sukuna's wrist but could not pry his hands off her hair. She felt dangerously close to burning him and although he was the enemy, she didn't want to destroy him. She tried to calm herself down, douse the fire with water as it were, and fixed her eyes anywhere but her tormentor. She caught sight of her red blood. Bright and dark and alive. And so very pretty, yet so very ugly.

"Get your fucking goddamn hands off her!" Izumo roared viciously.

….

Heels clicked on the floor; a succession of rapid taps that echoed across the vast hall.

" _See to it there is no one else here that could further our problems."_

So far she had checked all of the main dining rooms, the back stage of these very same rooms; a long and trying task. Being quick yet thorough and preoccupied by worries for Kusanagi was an multitask even she could not perform well in. The business sections had been next. In those, the strong stench of cigarette smoke and sweat made sure to drive her out twice as fast as the main dining rooms. But still the search there turned up with nothing. Afterwards she ventured to the various toilets scattered around the building, (maybe the greens would be applying make-up or war paint, or simply relieving their bowels, it was a foolish hope) but also turned up with nought. Then was the horrifying experience of searching the attic, which was indeed a bunch of bedrooms for impatient couples. The musky scent of "bodily liquids" made her want to gag and she just about lost her temper when she spied a few couples still strewn across the bed in post-intercourse bliss or…still at it, to put it lightly. She made sure they were escorted out and was tempted to kick them out of the restaurant without any clothes in the biting cold. The kitchens was the last place she visited but the delicious aroma of properly made food made her stay a few more seconds than necessary.

It was a safe guess than, at this point to assume that only the two J-Rank members Sukuna Gojou and Yukari Mishakuji, were present in the restaurant however Fushimi did report a number of lower ranking Greens appearing around the facility on a "decoy mission" apparently, they were dealt with. It was definite that Sukuna would almost certainly be engaged in combat with Izumo or going to be. That left Yukari. He seemed to be nowhere in sight. And Seri had no time to be searching for him any longer, he was probably with Sukuna right now and it would be unfair on Izumo to try and take them both down while protecting his King.

She made her way to the Kid's room as quickly as she could, passing the abandoned main room she had been in only 20 minutes ago. She grasped the handle of the double doors firmly and tugged it open, the feral screams and delighted laughter guiding her to the…bathroom? They were fighting there? Well, you couldn't pick your battlefield right? Seri began walking purposefully towards the sounds. One hand grasping for her sabre as she prepared to fight.

"You know, that cold face of yours does not do anything for your appeal."

Her eyes darted to the corner of her vision. Yukari Mishakuji. The man wore a black tailcoat which reached just below his knees, he wore it unbuttoned with a silver vest and white button-up shirt, around the collar was a black cravat. He had his "hideous" seaweed green hair tied back into a ponytail with two strands of purple hair framing his face and an added black hat to hide aforementioned green hair. He was on the stage, leaning casually on a wall, like he was waiting for someone.

"Maybe smile a bit. Yes, that would strike a different type of fear in your enemies" He was stopped by Seri rolling her eyes and trying to hide a scoff, "Though, looking at you now, I suppose that would be too much for you. Ah well, I can settle for being more passionate."

"What are you doing here?" Seri asked in an authoritative tone. Her hand gripped the handle of her sword tighter, she tugged it half-way out of its sheath as a warning.

"What am I doing here instead of helping my clansman, you mean?" He rephrased with a smirk.

Seri did not reply, only fixed those steely blue eyes on the man.

He chuckled lightly. "Well I'm highly offended, you seem to think Sukuna can't handle himself."

"Answer the question." She tried not to flinch as she heard more grunts and growls. Despite how angry Izumo sounded like, she could tell it wasn't an all-out war just yet. They were in "build-up stage" just now.

The feral screams and laughter lost their prominence, blurring into background noise, like music as she brought herself back to reality to thunderous violent irises, lips with one corner lifted up into a perfect smirk, hair cutting through air and the familiar silver of a flesh-piercing sword.

"Eyes on your partner!" His silky voice reprimanded her, and instinctively she corrected herself, like the good girl she always was. His lips curved upwards in what could only be described as a smile but she knew it wasn't, more like a sign of approval. He halted his advancement towards her. And like the teacher he was, his eyes spoke of pride as he observed the shock radiating from her. _She may find passion within her yet._ He twirled his sword around gracefully, slicing the air with various elegant movements before pointing it at her nonchalantly.

"Shall we dance?"

* * *

Normally Izumo let whoever he was fighting make the first move, sometimes it was like common courtesy. Allowing someone an "advantage" before they were ultimately defeated." That was the reason he let Seri attack first when they first met on the battlefield, but pretty soon he realized she didn't need the advantage and that he would be cutting it fine if he did give her one. So as the equals they were, he liked to think that they were on a good "charge at the same time, attack together" routine. However most times, it was to figure out how good of a fighter they were, funny how much you could find out about an opponent by the way they ran at you. But he had already decided go to hell with that strategy when he saw the kid man-handling Anna like that. He had pounced on the dickhead, one hand lifting the brat like a rag doll and the other pushing Anna out of harm's way. He brought his cigarette lighter to Sukuna's eyes. The bastard laughed like it was a game and he wasn't actually going to get burnt. The flame reflected in the teenager's grey eyes dangerously.

 _Seri's eyes honed in on the sword, mere inches away from her left eye. She didn't laugh, didn't betray any type of emotion on her physical form. That was, Yukari thought, if she had any. She flicked the wrist holding her own sword in a quick motion, aiming to disarm Yukari by slipping the tip of her sword into the handle of his and swinging it aside. However that wasn't the case as Yukari dodged the attack by pulling his sword aside, and gripped the offending wrist tightly with his hand. He felt the beginnings of an amused laugh erupting from his throat. Seri had been expecting it however, and with her free hand, she aimed a punch to the neck. He wasn't laughing anymore._

Sukuna's fist pushed painfully into Izumo's windpipe, the force of the punch forced it to contract, knocking the breath out of him. Izumo let go of the lighter as he stumbled back. Eyes dilated in fear he hadn't felt in ages, coughing wildly and heaving air down to his lungs. He barely registered his back pushing the bathroom door open, barely noticed Anna follow him, a hand held out to him to tug him back to her side…or the birth of a flame sitting in that very hand.

 _Yukari's hand was flat, palm upwards. It cradled the black hat which he had picked up from the marble ground after it had been cast aside when Seri punched him. He heard the door behind him swing open and the clumsy footfalls that followed. He felt a back collide with his own and saw in front of him, Seri's eyes widening for a fraction of a second before preparing to strike at him with her sword._

 _The stage is set, now let's add a little tragedy!_

 _He tossed aside his black hat, it slid across the polished floor to halt at the other side of the vast room. Now with both hands free, he directed his arm underneath the crook of Izumo's shoulder and pushed it upwards while the other hand twisted the bartender's wrist. He then aimed a kick at Izumo's knees causing the tall blonde to loose his footing and fall onto the floor with a resolute thud. He noticed that Seri had stopped her advancement on him but didn't comment. He only turned around to where Sukuna was, battling with a winged Anna with fire in her hands, the silence of Seri and the groans of Izumo as his applause._

She felt a crack in her calm masked exterior. Izumo had released a cry of agony before collapsing onto the floor, clutching his shoulder and letting the blood from his torso seep into his formal attire. Something about that cry, something about how guttural it was, how it conveyed the pain of the man that released it snapped something in her. She collapsed to her knees by his side, and to hell with appearances, she hunched her back and didn't fix her clothing. All she could do was stare at this man. Izumo Kusangi. Izumo, who carried the burden of HOMRA on his shoulders with a flirtatious playful smirk and a cigarette between his fingers. Izumo who was always the calm, cool, collected voice of reason among his emotional passionate clan, who she could bare to have a conversation with without breaking something. Who didn't hold back when he first fought her, gave her a head-start, yes but the fighting afterwards was not him holding back, and for that she was very grateful. She felt so numb, her mind was blank except for the increasing number of no, no, no! Spiralling in her head. Her hands had somewhat limply came to rest on her lap, not bothering to try to cover up Izumo's wounds because _he wasn't hurt! He is fine! He's okay…please god damnit, be okay!_ Her eyes had glazed over, refusing to process what she was seeing through her cold blue eyes.

She felt tears fall from her eyes, the moonlight seemed to want everyone to know that. _Yes, Awashima is crying_ as it created an ethereal spotlight on her.

* * *

Fushimi's blue SCEPTER 4 issued coat flapped violently in the harsh wind. He was perched on the restaurant's balcony, watching the chaos unleash everywhere. Below him was his subordinates arresting various low-ranking green clansmen and trying pathetically to subdue the panicked wealthy people who had cascaded out of the large double doors and other fire escapes dotted around the building in frantic waves. He heard more than saw the red clansmen charging into battles with the greens, leaving almost none to the blue clansmen as they sated their blood lust which had been growing since they saw that horrible message sent by the greens mocking their beloved passed King, Mikoto Suoh. Among the fieriest was HOMRA's Vanguard, Misaki who was tearing through any one who so much as had a speck of green on their bodies (leaving more frightened rich people and a lot of unconscious bodies scattered around the grand entrance) with a prolonged scream of rage. Fushimi had to hold back laughter as he saw two couples shivering in the wind, stark naked. Actually, the entire situation below him was so comical he half heartedly wanted to sit back and watch the scene unfold or jump into the action or maybe just piss off Misaki. But it was the situation that was in front of him that made him want to stay.

The glass doors had swung open from the wind, the slightly transparent curtains were flapping relentlessly providing a loud enough noise that when Fushimi had first leaped from his position on the hotel's balcony opposite the restaurant to this balcony of aforementioned restaurant, no one had heard him. He watched the scene before him. He saw his Lieutenant crouched over Kusangi, hunched over while Izumo's blood pooled around her knees. Sukuna was engaged in an all out combat with Anna, swinging his axe around excitedly while Anna released a bombardment of fireballs to his body. Yukari was leaning on a wall watching the fight with a fond smile on his face while he sharpened his sword and nursed his bruised throat.

He twirled a knife between his fingers before bringing it back behind his back and hurling it into the room.

…

 _Fushimi was on his phone, aimlessly finishing random missions on games when he heard a outcry of rage, he looked up just in time to see Izumo's tall frame pounce on Sukuna Gojou and the door swing shut behind him. 30 minutes later when he was still watching the closed door with mild amusement and he saw Lieutenant Awashima stride in with her hand on her sword. She then suddenly seemed to halt and start talking to someone. He watched the silent one-sided conversation go on, until Yukari appeared. Then he sent a message to Akiyama, asking him to remain vigilant. He watched his superior give the two-colour man a swift punch in the neck and everything that ensued with light interest._

 _Until Izumo was dealt a harsh blow and was sent to the floor. What really caught his attention was his blonde superior's reaction. The woman had collapsed onto the floor with as much poise as a drunk. She had her back hunched over in what Fushimi could only describe as grief, except it couldn't be, because this was Awashima, she didn't…she wasn't emotional. His eyes had already dilated in lust at such a riveting performance but the fact she was just sitting idly by with her hands in her lap, not doing anything…it was delicious. That showed her true trauma, she couldn't even conjure up the brainpower to save him, she was in such a state of shock. And then the blood started pooling around her bare knees. God, she looked so serene! He was entranced by such raw pain, his eyes were focused solely on her that he saw the tears stream down her face, captured by the moonlight, beautiful! Fushimi took a sharp intake of breath, his eyes were almost completely dark, his breath came as a low breathy growl and he seemed to look more manic. To witness such a shatter in façade like that…to hell with his rules!_

 _What would it be like I wonder? If I was to truly break her. In every. Way. Imaginable._

 _Munakata's number was already dialed. "Fushimi speaking." He spoke, trying to seem less lustful and somewhat succeeding, he didn't let Munakata answer, "I'll take the mission, I'll do it now."_

 _There was a pause on the other side of the line making Fushimi want to growl in impatience._

" _Have you got everything prepared?"_

" _Yes! Everything, I just need to do one last thing and I'm set."_

 _He could practically hear the smirk in Munakata's next words. Bastard!_

" _Very well…traitor"_

* * *

 ** _Author's Note_**

 **Thank you so much for your reviews and follows and faviroutes! They really made my day! Sorry it took so long, exams are horrible and now I can't even wing them like I used to. Also , I end up writing tons in one chapter because the thing that I wanted to reach (Seri's shatter) took so long to get to and I only ever write when I get the time. So updates are gonna be like this 4 month waiting period. Every. Single. Time. Without fail, okay! I tried really hard to iron out any grammatical errors but I have a gut feeling there are still a ton of them, so apologies in advance! But this is after you read it so...apologies afterwards? Anyway I hope you liked it and didn't totally get confused, my writing tends to be focused on "make the plot as dramatic as possible..." so it might all be very confusing! Sorry again!**

 **Anyway...See you when I see you**!


	3. Chapter 3 - Stab in the Back

**The De Sade Complex**

 **Chapter Three – Stab in the Back**

 **Misaki:** Where the fuck are you?

 _Delivered -23:04_

 **Misaki:** The blue shit heads are worried, asshole!

 _Delivered -23:16_

 **Misaki:** Fucking Fushimi, you bastard

 _Delivered -23:23_

 **Misaki:** That lady is missing and Kusangi got screwed over

 _Delivered -23:47_

 **Missed call: Misaki**

 **Misaki:** Pick up the goddamn phone, prick

 _Delivered -23:59_

 **Misaki:** Fucking Monkey!

 _Delivered -00:01_

 **Misaki:** For fucks sake, WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU GODDAMNIT!

 _Delivered -00:34_

…

Fushimi felt the solid pressure of the blade leaves his fingers and brush past his fingerprints as he hurled them into the chaotic room ahead of him. Suddenly everything was more…sharper. Like his senses were alarmingly heightened. It was like being on a particularly impressive stimulant, he didn't know whether he was drunk on it or oppressed by it. He just knew that he could see the blades he had just thrown glint with the eerie pale brightness of the moon. That he could feel his windswept hair tickle the side of his neck irritatingly and hear the blood rushing through his body, heart beating so rapidly that he swore he could burst a vein. Or the sound of his breath leaving his mouth in short grey bursts of gas warming the winter cold. Fushimi found himself focusing on Yukari, Sukuna and Anna. He saw the green axe swish towards Anna at such a speed that you could still see the green even though it wasn't there anymore, seeing that scene filled him with a sense of dread he didn't know that he possessed. How could he be worried about Anna Kushina of all people? He saw Anna's hand glow with the red flame that had destroyed the life he once knew with a nostalgic smile that never actually reached his lips…because despite his hatred of the Red Clan, they had treated him like family and for that he was both furious and grateful. His eyes flitted over to Yukari, and was slightly shocked to see the purple haired man smirk at him knowingly, still sharpening his sword like the scene around him was relaxed and not completely chaotic.

That was when he catches the overwhelming aroma of fresh blood. Salty and familiar. He hears it splatter on the floor like wine.

Yukari abruptly stops sharpening his blade, his magenta eyes widen slightly in shock, and release his iron gaze on him. Fushimi catches himself grinning like a fool at that shocked face.

"Aaarrgghh!"

Fushimi tears his gaze away just in time to see Awashima's back arch perfectly away from him as the last knife enters her back and her hand grip her shoulder where one of blades rips through her shoulder bone. The blood sprays onto her perfectly made hair, it poisons her mouth with its metallic iron taste, dripping down the corner of her lips; it mixed with the dry tears decorating her cheeks. Her hands are painted with blood, like red paint on a blank canvas, it cakes her fingernails; it feels filthy. Dirty.

 _The thought of his superior, in a simple room with chains, forcing her to sit with a perfect posture and an arched back, her voice hoarse from screaming at him, or screaming for help and a heaving chest with his scarred marks of possession push into the fore front of his mind and it is more than he can take!_

Awashima holds onto the blade embedded in her shoulder with shaking hands. She can feel it burning her skin, cutting her bone and slicing through the meat that is her muscles. She can feel her arm go slack with the pain and knows that she must pull the blade out quickly before she loses all remaining control over her arm. She tugs at the blade's handle, desperately trying to force it to leave the cosy cushioning of her skin. She feels a cry abrupt from her throat as the pain in her shoulder rises but clenches her teeth shut just before it escapes from her lips, she feels dizzy from the loss of blood. All Seri can think of, all that is swirling over her clouded mind is "I'm going to die here." The thought is so depressing, she wants to give up. But then she feels the blade wrenched from her skin and her shoulder is soothed with the feeling of numbness. Seri stares at her hands, incredulous as to how, how they had the strength to stop the pain when her mind had already accepted defeat.

 _Protect. Protect. Protect SCEPTER 4._

 _Protect Reisi Munakata. Protect…Protect Iz-_

She hears the God forsaken blade clatter to the floor as she gives a final groan and collapses to the floor with a dull thud.

…

"Sushi?" Nagare Hisui asks, he waits for the answer with little interest.

"Yeah." Mr Iwa confirms as he closes the door to the little cosy room where JUNGLE operated. The boxes of fresh sushi rattled in the bags, filling the room with the aroma of raw fish.

"Someone's close then?" It was an unspoken tradition to serve sushi to anyone that made it to J-Rank, unfortunately the quality of sushi did not reflect the prestigiousness of the occasion. Nagare asked, though it was more of a statement than a question, his eyes scanned the hologram ahead of him for a player/clansmen with high mission accomplishment points, but turned up short.

"I can't find anyone."

Mr Iwa chuckled, he could tell the boy was annoyed that he couldn't spot the player he was looking for. Such things made the young King feel weak.

"The player has linked accounts with one of N-rank players, the one who we pay. Because she is a elite player, her name is highlighted on the map, the player you're looking for is next to her in a smaller box, like they are assisting her."

"They wouldn't be the rank they are if they was just assisting." Nagare pointed out.

"Nope! But their skills and abilities score them more points, also the hit woman appears to be transferring her points to the player..."

"Where is this player now?" Nagare questioned.

"Their last log in, 20 minutes ago was from the Bisha Hotel. They were just completing small on-device missions." Mr Iwa dismissed the question with a wave of his hand.

"Isn't that the one next to that big restaurant where Yukari and Sukuna are?"

"Yeah it is, they were notified to be a bait for the reds and blues but apparently they haven't completed it yet."

Nagare grinned.

"Slacker."

…

 _Thud. Clank._

 _Thud. Clank._

 _Thud. Clank._

Seri hears the footsteps from behind her, where the window is, where Fushimi was positioned. No doubt, he isn't there anymore, probably lodging in as many of those throwing knives he can into the enemy clan before someone stops him. She can hear something else accompanying the soft footfalls and thinks they must have something heavy with them, the image of a weapon enter her mind and she tries to get up with renewed vigor.

A sudden wave of nausea passes over her, she lifts her hands a fraction to cover her mouth from releasing the scorching acid rising up her throat but stops herself before anyone can see she is weaker then it seems already. But she cannot stop the pounding headache, it throbs so violently against her skull that she cannot hope to concentrate. Seri realizes she is sweating and shaking, her hands instinctively clench into fists so no one can see and wipes her forehead with those very same fisted heads. Accepting that she cannot get up if she doesn't want to faint, she shuffles towards the blond bartender, the impact of the knives pushed her away from him a bit but not a lot, though she still needs to be closer to properly protect him. As she places her arm across his chest in a defensive stance, she feels the same burning sensation of tears falling from her eyes because of Kusanagi's slow heart rate.

 _Dying. Dying. Dying!_

A lump forms at her throat, constricting her air pipe so she can't breathe properly, she lets out an awful choking noise from within her that echoes loudly in her ears but can't reasonably be much louder than a particularly quiet sob. It's so _fucking_ unfair. Her King is fighting a losing battle and she knows that at some point, she will have to raise a sword to that man and end his life and now, she is pathetically trying to protect her one source of stability from all the crap in her life. She wants to murder him, or punch him. Because how _dare_ he? How dare he go fucking die on her when she still has use of him. He can go die for all she cares but only after all this has gone away and not any time before that. She briefly wanders about what the definition of "all this" is, is it the threat of the Green Clan? Or Munakata's coming demise? Or just her strange life amidst the world of Kings, Clans and Slates? But dismisses it as unimportant because the point is, is that she still needs to have a cocktail or hell, at this point, some shots filled with red bean paste. And she needs someone out of those blood-thirsty, good-for-nothing punks who dare call themselves a clan to actually have a civilized conversation when they eventually cause trouble for the Blue Clan. Awashima is suddenly bombarded with how much stability this bleeding mess of a man provides. She needs him because his open manner of speaking refreshes her so much when she spends days analyzing the ever articulate Munakata and his coded words, stressing over if the Captain is upset or happy, or stressed and can she do anything to help? She needs him as a guide for Fushimi, whom seems to despise doing anything she tells him to, she needs to hear the voice of a chuckling Izumo telling her to "not be so cold and commanding" because she's invoking his natural teenage instinct of rebellion to authority. She needs him to be the representation of HOMRA so she doesn't think they're all a group of thick-headed bastards whose King caused Munakata such stress and grief. She needs a person to insult thoroughly daily because her days are filled with trying to keep everyone in line that she is in no position to snap at everyone like she so dearly wants to.

She wants a lifeline to cling on to and Izumo Kusangi, second in command of HOMRA is the one who presented himself.

"Oh for fucks sake! He isn't even dead yet." Sukuna yells and it is then that Seri realises that it is alarmingly quiet in the room, Anna had appeared by Izumo's side, but stood a distance away from him as if she didn't want to hurt him. Turning her attention away from the youthful Red King, she looks up to see the boy glare at the man below her with rage and she immediately thinks that he is referring to her dramatic crying, and rapidly blinks away the liquid building up behind the dam of her eyelids.

Yukari notices this cover-up and chuckles lightly. "Oh Sukuna be more specific, now you've got her hiding her emotions again… What a shame, that performance was delightful!" He commented lightly, smiling at her.

"Like I give a shit." He swings his axe nonchalantly and Seri notices the venom in his voice when he delivers his next words, "Stupid point stealer."

His eyes are no longer staring intently at Kusangi but somewhere else, his axe is raised to point in that same direction and he looks to be in a defensive stance, in 2 seconds, that is all Seri can analyse from him when a burst of noise makes its way into her ears.

 _A laugh? Who the hell is laughing?_

The chuckle rings in her ears and she whips her head to face the noise before her brain even formulates the thought that _it's familiar._ But nothing in her life is going well today and fate apparently wants to keep on that stupid godforsaken path, because she finds her vision blurred and clouded, black voids of empty darkness blinding bits of her surroundings. She can just about make the blurred outline of blue and purple, signifying the presence of a SCEPTRE 4 clansmen.

"Point stealer?" The male asks humourlessly, his words a question designed to degrade and belittle. All Awashima could think was _He seems like an A-grade dickhead._ Like her brain was pumping out thoughts at a slower rate, the precise rapidness it had adopted over the years had dissipated and she couldn't get to the conclusion she was trying to find, instead dealing with weird thoughts like this that were completely irrelevant.

"Get over yourself." The man drawled. His voice was so void of the mirth and glee it had possessed before it startled her so much she gasped; inhaling some of the blood bordering her mouth, choking on the vile taste of it as its lumpy mass forced its way down her oesophagus. His soft silky voice forced the final piece to click and she so dearly wished it hadn't. She wanted to go back to that blissfully ignorant state she was in before where, _where-_

 ** _Where Fushimi wasn't a traitor._**

Her eyes widened in shock however aguish soon terminated that emotion but she wasn't very good at expressing emotion, even when it threatened to consume her. As such, she found herself rendered a mute, watching and thinking but unable to do anything more.

"What kind of idiot are you I wonder, to completely avoid the fact that Yukari stole your prized kill while you were-"Awashima heard him speak but it was going in one ear and out the other.

 _Fushimi? H-he has access to a JUNGLE account. He's been earning points? What rank would he be in now, is he J-Rank? How long has he been laughing at us? I knew Akiyama said he had an argument with Munakata after the greens took the slates but- I assumed that he had gotten over it, why else would he have accepted my request for him to watch over me? Wait, has he been planning this? He was getting a kick out of my unawareness wasn't he, the bastard!"_

"-You think I stole your kill? Give me a break! It's called tact. I just can't believe you didn't see me standing outside but…what can you do?"

"Quit with the fucking lecture old man!" Sukuna muttered, scowling.

 _The blades that was him wasn't it? Shit! That fucking deadbeat, I knew giving him extra weapons would be a bad idea._

Her hands were in fists now, shaking with barely suppressed rage and her breaths came in harsh bursts. She couldn't control herself, couldn't control her emotions. She couldn't see anything clearly anymore. Everything was a hazy mess as her muddled mind tried to trudge through the information piling up around it, not looking, not understanding.

All she saw was red.

 _How ironic._

In a quick flash of white hot adrenaline, she forced herself to stand up on shaky legs and an even shakier mind to sprint towards the traitor with the knife he had used to disable her (wait, how did she get that?) in her clenched hands. She was screaming, or at least it felt like she was screaming, maybe she wasn't but really, who gives a shit? All she cared about was causing Fushimi so much pain he would regret ever making her cry, making her scream, making her fucking feel anything! She ran at him, her heels were her war drums. They announced her presence to her enemies; Fushimi had swiveled his head around, the smirk still glued into his head and his mouth still opened to speak words that would die in his lips.

The blades cut through the flesh of his abdomen, blood pouring out from the newly made wound and dripping down his blazer, it sprayed across his face, marring his finger-print less glasses with its crimson stain. Fushimi felt the knife lodge itself into his chest and he felt himself stumble backwards from the impact but quickly regained his footing. But none of that registered; unimportant in comparison to…her.

 _Her pain._

 _Her anger._

 _Her grief._

Lieutenant Awashima. Her palette of emotion was simply exquisite. He would make a hell of a feast out of her.

Fushimi acted out on a rush of carnal needs and desires. As he felt Seri rush past him (with the blade still pointed outwards as if she intended to injure the air next) he swiftly grabbed her wrist, using a lot more of his strength than he thought necessary to stop a broken woman's momentum. He felt Awashima buckle at his touch, perhaps she was really just as shattered as he had expected, and her feet unable to support her body and her knees shake uncontrollably, bending to crash to the floor below her. Except she couldn't. The grip on her wrist prevented her to properly fall onto her knees, she was suspended between standing and sitting, the tips of her toes meeting the floor while her heel was elevated from it, it was an excruciating position to wind up in, she feared that if she didn't die from a loss of blood when her arm eventually teared at the joint - so she could finally fall to the ground like she so wanted to – the lack of blood or _anything_ to her hand (she could lose her hand too then).

His face was sickeningly close to her own, she felt she was being forced into confronting him and his betrayal too quickly then she wanted to. She suspected it was a coping mechanism to help her brain adjust to the influx of information but she swore she saw Fushimi's ice blue irises morph into the familiar grey steel of Captain Munakata. It calmed her down strangely, this man who earned a great deal of her respect was staring at her so unwaveringly with a smirk that spoke volumes when normally it did not. It told her to " _get yourself together"_ she silently obeyed, feeling like the sea of her brain was becoming more still than the tidal waves it was before. But that was brought to a finish when she noted that Munakata was lecherously grinning at her, it was deformed and bizarre on her Captain's porcelain face. An abomination she would label it, but nevertheless she felt her calm shatter just as quickly as her mask of coldness (Damn Kusangi) and Munakata's face distort back into Fushimi.

She stared back at a face with black hair falling in front of it, tickling her cheeks and forehead with printless glasses. She thanked the heavens above she hadn't showed any signs of her hallucination but apparently her silence was enough to amuse if that nasty grin was anything to go by. He grabbed her chin, pinching it painfully between his thumb and forefinger. "I assume mine was the best."

He laughed, with the glee of someone who had just cracked a joke which erupted laughter from his audience and to congratulate himself on his achievement he should laugh twice as much and even more hysterically.

She spit on him.

Laughter was all that followed, he didn't even attempt to wipe off her saliva, like he wasn't that bothered. It was incredibly unnerving so she was almost thankful when she felt another towering presence behind her and the butt of a sword hit her squarely on the head, black swimming in her vision before consuming her whole. She fell to the darkness to the sound of manic laughter and Yukari's proud smile.

"I look forward to when I battle her again, with such passionate emotions finally emerging, I think it will be a rather entertaining battle of swords as well as tongues!" Yukari claimed as he hauled the dead weight of Seri over his shoulder like one would do to a bag. He wrapped his free hand - which wasn't steadying Awashima in her place atop his shoulder - around Fushimi in a gesture of camaraderie. Guiding him along with Sukuna at his front. Leaving behind a motionless Anna who had crouched over Izumo with not even the slightest care for the proceedings that went on in front of her and a stiller Izumo in their wake.

….

 _"Kusangi! Come on, stay with us!" Yata screamed as he skated past various streets to the hospital. His voice was strained and he was dripping in sweat, despite such a lanky appearance, Kusangi was unexpectedly heavy. So much so that Yata was hunching over while on his skateboard like a wilting flower._

 _Everyone was gathering inside the Second in Commands hospital room, the only sound heard emitting from the heart rate monitor, breaking the silence every second with steady but quiet beeps. Yata had been pushed out of the door and was now sitting outside on those uncomfortable blue seats bolted onto the walls, receiving frightened and judgemental glares from the hospitals occupants._

 _He had quickly informed Munakata of what Anna recalled of the events but that had a unclear ending, she finished it with "Kusangi screamed and fell, and there was a horrible red everywhere." So he was left to conclude that the cold lady from the blue clan had been kidnapped and…Fushimi, well apparently hide-and-seek is best enjoyed in the middle of a crisis. To which Munakata had "humphed" and closed the line. Uncaring idiot._

 _He flipped open his phone, if the monkey didn't want to know the consequences of his neglect in not protecting his clan and in turn Yata's, he had another thing coming._

 **Misaki:** Where the fuck are you?

 _Delivered -23:04_

 _He gave Fushimi time to read it, he was never one for looking at messages quickly anyway. Yata gave Fushimi the amount of time it took to get Anna back to the bar to sleep, return back to the hospital and get a coffee before the Blue's walked in, severely "concerned" for their Lieutenant if that was a way to describe it. Severely pissed was another way. It heightened when they discovered Fushimi was also missing, apparently their King kept that information from them._

 **Misaki:** The blue shit heads are worried, asshole!

 _Delivered -23:16_

 _The blue's were causing such a ruckus, trying to get information, it was pissing him off. Why wasn't he replying?_

 **Misaki:** Fucking Fushimi, you bastard

 _Delivered -23:23_

 _He had just received news that Kusangi had gone into a intense coma and would need a long period of time to recover the damage done to him. His anger was projected on an apparently uncaring Saruhiko._

 **Misaki:** That lady is missing and Kusangi got screwed over

 _Delivered -23:47_

 _Maybe that piece of information would give Saruhiko more incentive to reply. He had always been a bit more open to Kusangi than anyone else in HOMRA besides himself and as for the blonde lady, he had to assume that he cared enough to be concerned._

 **Missed call: Misaki**

 **Misaki:** Pick up the goddamn phone, prick

 _Delivered -23:59_

 _It was getting close to midnight and almost an entire hour since the first message, the life of a clansmen was always dangerous, they had to be on high alert, ready to attack at a moments notice or at least that's what Yata had learn, was the idiot just allowed to laze around in front of a computer all day, was that sword just decoration? Tch._

 **Misaki:** Fucking Monkey!

 _Delivered -00:01_

 _Downright pissed. What kind of a clansman was this brat? A shitty asshole-ish one!_

 **Misaki:** For fucks sake, WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU GODDAMNIT!

 _Delivered -00:34_

 _He should just give up trying, its too much effort and quite frankly, he's too emotionally exhausted to deal with this type of shit._

….

Munakata still occupies his office even though it is ridiculously late in the night and he really should be retiring to bed right now. Still, these are just thoughts and won't be acted out any time soon. Instead he is fixated on his PDA, like he can somehow rewrite the conversation he had with HOMRA's Vanguard Misaki Yata. Fushimi has done his part of the deal and become a traitor going by his disappearance but he did not anticipate all of the factors, now Mr Kusangi is gravely injured and he has no idea of the whereabouts of his blonde Lieutenant. He thinks (hopes) that Fushimi has kidnapped her, aiming to give her valuable information concerning the Green Clan and then release her back to them. That way it won't look like Fushimi is a double agent and if Seri reports enough information, Fushimi might not even be in a position where he may have to sacrifice his life for the good of Japan, but it is nothing but a thought. He can't even call Fushimi right now, too much suspicion; he instructed him to keep his phone off or to not contact anyone while on the mission. He understands that, but he just needs to know, Munakata doesn't appreciate having pawns which he cannot see or move, he rather prefers to see the bigger picture instead of a segment of it. But it cannot be helped.

Munakata wanders if he should try to find a way to smuggle Seri's belongings to her via Fushimi but brushes off the idea in favour of who to hire as both Fushimi's and Seri's replacement. Perhaps that Zenjo fellow, the man from the previous Blue clan who killed the previous Red King in Kagutsu Crater incident. He will not replace Seri, but he will certainly provide as the perfect person to kill him if or when the time arrives and Awashima is not there. He'll assign people from the Intelligence Division to replace the work that Fushimi did filing reports. Hopefully that should be enough, it is only temporary…he hopes.

Munakata feels rather drained, as he does most days recently and stands up to leave, his sword by his hip and his glasses pocketed away. He wipes his sweat on his hair, messing it up further. He seriously hopes this is only temporary. But then again everything is temporary, truly speaking. His life is temporary. Ah well.

"I'll keep running till I reach my limit." He thinks that Mikoto might call him a hypocrite. Maybe he is in this case.

He wanders who will tell him to stop pursuing a pointless battle and to denounce his throne.

….

Awashima groggily opens her eyes to a comfy room (by comfy she means cramped) and the smell of sushi. She is lying on a filthy sofa and surrounded by greens. She remains collected, careful to not alert them. A weapon would be good, sadly none present themselves.

"She's up!" She hears a childlike voice yell from the side of her, she sees Sukuna lying on the floor beside the couch playing games but in a flash he is in front of her with an axe in her personal space, reflected in her eyes.

She was wrong, this is as good a weapon as any.

Grabbing the axe the only place she can, at the silver cutting edge, she wretches it from the boy. Fairly easy, he wasn't expecting her to attack from there. Her hand is bleeding and there is a nasty gash across it which will take ages to heal but she is armed. She has only enough time to take it up in an attacking stance before a sword is in front of her neck and she smells the scent of lavender shampoo.

"I don't think so, do you?" Yukari whispers behind her. He is smiling, they are all smiling. Sukuna with fish stuck between his teeth. How they must laugh at her. She doesn't take too kindly to that.

"How cliché, could you be anymore unoriginal." She ditches the idea of mimicking him but regardless, Yukari is offended which was her aim. Before he has time to refute, she is walking towards the brown door in front of her. Treading past various limbs sitting down munching on Sushi.

"Take me wherever you planned on locking me up." She commands, noticing that Nagare both has a look of disdain and approval.

Mr Iwa gets up to lead the way (Yukari by his side) with amusement in his eyes. But she can tell that she has the elders respect at least. Her dignity is restored. She sees _him_ leaning next to the door with a slight grin gracing his thin lips, he readjusts his glasses; he had been laughing at her quietly. She doesn't look at him, in her mind, he is non-existent.

She takes good care to casually step on his toes with her heels as she walks out.

Mr Iwa opens the door to white she only describe as a limbo. There is nothing but vastly tall columns and everything is white and the space stretches on for an eternity, it is like nothing she has seen before. She follows him past the slates which she ignores. Yukari blocks her path to them with a smile on his lips. She stares defiantly back at him. Finally she is lead to a single grey room, it looks like a cell, made out of metal and a door with a slider to peer through. But it is generously spacious. It has a small single bed on one wall and an adjacent bathroom which in comparison to the room itself isn't that large. She walks in and hears the door close behind her with a bang.

5 minutes later she is balled up in the corner, all her rage at Fushimi has rapidly dissapated, in its place she feels the now familiar tears slide down her face because of his betrayal, as she succumbs to sleep and all its hellish nightmares.

 _Izumo dying,_

 _screaming,_

 _crying,_

 _hurting,_

 _DYING._

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Sorry for the wait...**

 **I actually did have it finished like a month ago but the website decided to be hard on me and wouldn't load the document when I tried to upload it, then like 2 weeks after it loaded it but said the file was too big (which I don't get because I've uploaded files bigger than this so...) and then when I finally sorted that out, it said it was in the wrong format... *sigh* So that is my excuse.**

 **Also be sure to let me know if I made any grammar mistakes because I don't have the best grammar, spelling or punctuation and it always leaves me on edge when I upload something. I give myself so many face-palms when I re-read my work AFTER I've uploaded it and find mistakes.**


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